


love comes wearing disguises

by hawaiiwerewolf



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3879826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawaiiwerewolf/pseuds/hawaiiwerewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Michael asked if he would take her home, make sure she gets there safely - what was he supposed to do?"</p>
<p>*set after the events of Fame or Shame</p>
            </blockquote>





	love comes wearing disguises

**Author's Note:**

> a little experiment, I can only hope I did this pairing justice

Out of all the ways to spend his afternoons, _this_ was the last on Franklin’s list.

Here - cruising down the streets of Los Santos, with Michael’s daughter sitting in the passenger seat. Michael hadn’t told him much - just that Tracey was auditioning for Fame or Shame and the host - Lazlow - got a little too friendly. 

_“Tracey just got herself in a bit of trouble,” Michael’s saying, his voice barely audible over the sound of an engine. “Lazlow - you know him - he was - well -”_

“He was dry-humping Tracey on national television,” another unfamiliar voice cuts in loudly, drowning Michael out completely. “God, we haven’t even caught up with this asshole yet and you’re already trying to make excuses for him.” 

Michael asked if he would take her home, make sure she gets there safely - what was he supposed to do? 

“-you’re his daughter,” Franklin’s saying, eyes focused ahead into the Los Santos traffic. “ the only good thing he has in this fucked up life of his, so of course he wants to protect you.” 

Tracey’s pouting in the passenger’s seat, arms crossed and gaze drawn to the window. “What’s he protecting me from? Having a life? Having friends?” 

“Shit,” Franklin lets himself glance over at the blonde. “if that’s the kind of people you consider your friends, I can see why he’s worried.” 

“Hey, I like Lazlow - he’s nice.” 

“Yeah, he’s nice, alright,” Franklin says wryly. “trying to have his way with you on national television-” 

“We were just _dancing,_ ” 

‘Alright, alright,” Franklin’s fingers spread out across the steering wheel in sign of retreat. “whatever you say.” 

Things go quiet after that, Tracey’s still sulking and Franklin’s still trying to focus his attention on anything that isn’t Michael’s daughter. The radio plays softly in the background, which helps ease the tension into just below the level of unbearable, and Franklin allows himself to relax. 

And it’s weird, because Tracey doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all with the current situation - maybe she’s used to hitching rides home with strangers - but, then again, Franklin wouldn’t doubt it. 

From what little he’s heard from Michael, Tracey seems to be getting herself into all sorts of things lately. 

Soon enough, when the silence is too much, Franklin finds himself talking again. “I’m just saying, maybe you should try for guys that aren't a shit stain to humanity, you know.” 

He’s been hanging around Michael too much, the whole caring father thing is starting to rub off on him. 

“Like who?” Tracey asks without looking at him. 

“I dunno,” Franklin shrugs. “someone who isn't forty years old, divorced, and getting publicly humiliated every day of his life, maybe. Someone with some actual goals and shit, like a lawyer or a doctor, someone who respects you for more than your body-” 

Franklin certainly isn’t the one to be giving lessons about life, and it’s actually pretty hypocritical of him when he thinks about it, but still, if anyone knows anything about fucking up in the past life, it’s him. 

Tracey still has a chance to get on the right track, and honestly, Franklin somewhat envies her for it. He was never handed a second chance, so now, he’s spending his days running away from the choices and decisions he made during the first. 

“What about you?” Tracey asks, and the question is so unexpected that - at first, Franklin doesn’t think he heard her correctly. 

“What?” Franklin glances over to see Tracey staring at him head on, interested by his response. 

“What about you,” Tracey repeats. “why don’t you take me out?” 

“Yeah,” Franklin has to look over at her again just to make sure she’s serious and - she is. Shit. “I don't really think your father would approve of his daughter dating some gangbanger who broke into his house.” 

“But he trusts you now, doesn’t he?” 

“I mean, shit,” Franklin shrugs, his grip tight on the steering wheel. “I guess so.” 

“So why would he have a problem with us dating?” Tracey asks, and it doesn’t look like she’s gonna let this one go anytime soon. _Shit._

“You don’t even _know_ me, Tracey-” 

“What’s your name, then?” 

“-Franklin, but-” 

“Alright,” Tracey says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “now I do, so what’s stopping us now?” 

“Look, Tracey,” Franklin says, firmer this time. “you're a nice girl and all, but Michael and I are cool, and I just don't think he'd-” 

“Are you afraid of my dad? Like, is that it?” 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-” 

“Well, that’s what it sounds like to me,” Tracey says pointedly. 

“Just drop it, alright,” Franklin cuts onto the street leading up into Rockford Hills. “Michael would have both of our asses if we got involved, it’s just not a good idea.” 

“ _Micheal_ can’t make decisions for us, Franklin, the heart wants what it wants,” 

Franklin can’t help but laugh at this. “Shit, listen to yourself, we've only known each other for like ten minutes and you're over there talking like we're in some shitty romance movie, it's just not a good idea-” 

“So, what, don’t you like me,” Tracey sounds hurt, but more along the lines of offended. Franklin just can’t win in this situation. “Do you think I’m ugly or something?” 

“No, it ain’t that-” 

“Then, what is it?” 

Franklin pulls up in front of the De Santa Residence, more or less relieved to see that Michael’s not there waiting for them. “I don’t know, Tracey,” 

Even when they pull to a stop, Tracey still remains sitting in the seat, her stare locked on Franklin. “Give me your phone,” 

“What?” 

“Give me your phone,” 

“What for?” Franklin fishes it out of his pocket reluctantly and Tracey successfully grabs it out of his hand and begins typing away. 

After a few moments of Franklin craning his neck to try and see the screen, Tracey hands the phone back over to him. 

“I gave you my number,” she says, pushing open the passenger side door and stepping out of the car. “text me when you figure it out.” 

Before Franklin can reply, Tracey’s already slammed the door shut and is making her way up to the front doors of her house. 

Franklin immediately realizes he’s crazy when he considers taking Tracey up on her offer.


End file.
